Had Things Been Different
by Brynn Dharielle
Summary: Unintended, unexpected, a meeting takes place between two shinobi who know each other, but outside the walls that contain their common past. A new chance arises to face the problems of old, but will the conclusion be any different? [OroAnko, I guess.]
1. Haunted

**Disclaimer:** _I don't own anything even remotely related to Naruto. I only own my writing style and ideas._

**Details:** _This fic is intended to be a two-part story. I was supposed to be posting this on the 24th (Anko's char birthday), but my internet connection didn't allow it, so the 25th had to do. _

**Dedicated To:** _Caeribormaith; I will admit I was quite influenced by her way of role-playing Anko._

* * *

**Part One – Haunted**

She woke slowly, her eyes protesting against the light and trying to keep closed, even as the ears transformed the noise into acoustic impulses that nudged her brain towards awareness. There was heavy rain pouring methodically outside, the drops hitting the pavement just below her window in a rhythm whose quickness had made the distinct notes into indescribable homogeny. But that was not what created the bothersome dissonance that broke her sleep so unpleasantly. Those sounds – or more precisely that _single_ sound – formed a far simpler pattern, mingled with intervals of silence that were nearly the same in length. The whole mix was dull and completely unmelodic, the noise of wood slamming against yet more wood.

She didn't know what it could be. She had only rented the small apartment the day before, to use during her stay in the small town her mission had brought her to. She hardly knew it well enough to identify noises around the place. She bore through it for a while, stoically refusing to rise and begin her day before her own physical needs had decided it was time. But there was only so much one's patience could take; it definitely had a limit, while the source of her distress was devoid of such boundaries. Something had to give in. Finally, her eyes cracked open.

Anko's bare feet thudded against the floor in muffled and perfectly synchronized tones, and then she stood, allowing the sheets she had been hugging to herself just earlier to brush off of her at leisure, falling prey to gravity. That took a few seconds, during which she stretched discreetly, in a fashion that did not involve much movement, but merely the tensing of her muscles and a bit of shifting about from the part of her shoulders. Finally, as the white and cumbersome fabric fell away completely and left her clad in shorts and an old T-shirt, which she had donned to sleep in, she had to suppress a shiver at the realization it was rather cold.

The woman made her way towards the kitchen, blinking back the remainders of her wish to lie down and give herself to blackness again. Her steps were accompanied by the same auditory disturbance, whose intensity grew more and more as she came closer. As soon as she pushed open the door to the other room, her eyes fell on the source: a small cupboard to her right, not the craftiest and most well maintained of all. Its miniature door was struggling with the wind that soared in through the wide-open window, and it kept slipping open, then slamming shut again.

She hesitated and stood there looking at it. Having been brought to consciousness too soon and against her will, Anko's brain was slow to process the visual information it received and turn it into a logical decision. So she just lingered there pondering for a few prolonged moments on a simple matter whose outcome she should have been able to decide in a heartbeat. Right now, it dumbfounded her, stopping her thought processes entirely. The cupboard was closer, so she could deal with that first and then head for the window… but then again, if she shut the window, the cupboard would fall silent as well from the lack of any more air currents. She could construct the argument, but failed to truly weigh the options and pick one.

It was then, in that state of slowness, that the unannounced throb of pain found her, sudden and sharp, causing her to freeze. No consideration or checking were needed to identify the source of it, she knew instantly, and her hand was there by instinct, fingertips pressed to the spot before she could even picture it in her mind. The Juin.

Though acute, it seemed to have been just one stab that did not intend to return, because only calm followed it. Not from her part, though. Her hand was still there, reluctant to lower itself back to her side, for fear it would be all that the pain needed to return. Her teeth remained gritted, her bracing against the unpleasant sensation having been replaced by helpless frustration.

Some things just didn't leave people alone, no matter how much time passed since they had been abandoned by both parties. And this one, the small mark, most certainly had… hadn't it?

It was _his_ fault. All of it was. (And hers for trusting him and looking up to him that much.)

That latter thought, that unwanted side note… she wished she could erase it. Denial would be sweet. But there was always that tiny corner of her mind that chose to admit the truth instead. She couldn't do much about it when it was her own self that disagreed with her first. No one would ever be able to prove a point they didn't believe in to the world. Maybe unless something was being given in return… but she'd get nothing from anyone for this.

He'd told her that. He had promoted a self-centric manner of dealing with things that he had claimed was the only path to efficiency. Despite solid proof, Anko would never openly admit he was right and she knew it. He was, to himself. But society and the requirements of consideration towards other people made him wrong. Her own concept and sense of ethics made him wrong.

Her hand slipped away, the pressure of nails and skin dispersing from her left shoulder. She reprimanded herself internally for letting the one thing she truly hated in the world affect her in such a fashion. It – he – was only a memory at present. And yet, she had even forgotten about the cupboard, when it had been disturbing her so just moments earlier. The sight of it pushed the thoughts back some more.

A venomous glare at the door as it slammed again and a heavier sigh vented her negative emotions out.

_Venomous... negative emotions…_

She shook her head, and moved to the window, clear thought and method having been found again. She forced it closed and made sure it would stay that way, taking pleasure from the abruptness and the vicious character of that one move.

Something to take it all out on… anything. She had found, this time.


	2. Change

**Rant:**_ Here it is, the second part. And the final one, might I add. Posted on the 27th, Orochimaru's character birthday. So Happy Birthday to Oro and suches. Writing his POV here was a killer, to be honest, but I won't lie. I enjoyed writing every bit of this. Hope you enjoy reading. xD_

* * *

**Part Two – Change**

_I'll find a more excellent child._

Those words weren't something Anko would easily forget again, after having recovered as much from her damaged past. What she had felt back then, with all the tiny facets that flashed through her mind, the needles that stabbed at her heart with different impulses, all of it… They weren't pleasant things to remember, but she would. Anything was better than the gaps that made her feel like some sort of faulty machine cast aside for a better, newer model. Just like he had made her think of herself.

If she had struggled to her feet right then, right there…

That desire had crossed her. It had been like a sudden stab, a knife twisting into a non-lethal, but immensely denting wound, a sensation which she had later through her life come to identify as pride. The meaning behind his statement, that she wasn't good enough, and that someone else could be, had enraged her. It had, because she knew he was wrong. She had everything it took to become what he had required, but she _chose_ not to. It was different. If she had strained her weary body, if she had given in to her temptation and followed him then, she could have proven her worth.

Anko had been in many battles. A wild side, perhaps the recklessness of one left without much to lose, was in her heart, making her seek the danger, the adrenaline. The two of them were similar here. It was a vestige, maybe, the only thing besides her techniques that he had given and she had kept. She liked to feel challenged, she liked to be put to the test. But no clash she had ever been part of had felt as intense as those two conflicting sides of her from that distant memory: to stay there and to let morality prevail over egotistical pride, or to follow him and prove that she was somebody, instead of some_thing_.

She thought, even now, that the only thing tipping that balance towards the first option had been her own doubts. Doubts that she had all rights to be feeling: he didn't think better of anyone except himself, and he never would. Everyone else would always be objects before him, tools; so would she, no matter what she could or would do. If she hadn't realized that, she would have gone… given in to the darker side of her. She would have been as irrecoverably lost as he.

She clutched stubbornly at her shoulder as the seal throbbed, pain flowing and ebbing around in a lack of patterns that nearly drove her crazy. Not with its intensity, as much as with how it reaffirmed her inability to help this. She hated it with such passion…

The passion with which she hated him.

"You were always weak," the voice came from behind her, giving her new reasons, as if she'd actually need any to add to that collection she already had, of immeasurable proportions already.

She would have said something snappish. She would have attacked. Anything in the futile hope to at least put a scratch on him, physical or not. But there was only so much energy that the effort of keeping the seal in check (or in the pretense of check) didn't consume, and she decided it should go towards the steadying of her ragged breath. Soon, she was at least secure of her own stability, so long as she did not try to move. A small spot in the world was hers again; no matter how small, she had it.

Instead of drifting towards what she did consider, her mind concentrated as a substitute on what she _hadn't_ expected that morning. It was a natural reaction to surprise, though belated due to her more impending urge to cover the seal, to fight its effects. Earlier… The burst of fresh air that the rain had left behind it, cleaned of all impurities, and the mild chill that she had actually found friendly. She had been walking through that, and the last thing she had been waiting to see was him, the last coincidence she had imagined would occur was for the two of them to come to the same place.

"Why are you here?" she asked dryly.

Flat tone, no emotion. He didn't deserve anything.

* * *

Racing, but still under his control, the thoughts swarmed inside of Orochimaru's mind, as he could infallibly tell they did in Anko's, also. He did not doubt the essential differences that arose between the nature of his and the make of hers, however. She must have lost even the pretense of organization and logic, he assumed by the clenched fist he thought she didn't even realize she held to her side as the other hand was pressed to her slouched shoulder… to the small mark that would never give her peace.

Peace… he wondered why anyone would regret not having it. He would expect ignorant weaklings to not be able to see beyond the public ideas of why global harmony was desirable, but from shinobi… He smirked. That only proved that most of them were nothing more than idiots, as well, no different from regular people, save for the fact that they were also deluded, in addition to the narrow-minded views.

In times of rest and calm, it was true that one's forces could be rebuilt or recovered, but that didn't take forever. Then, motion was needed to come again or it wouldn't be called life, or anything to relish. Stillness was boring when it took too long to unwind and make room for the changes that yet needed to come. It was much like a fallen leaf, in fact. It tumbled from its place, and was eventually carried to a spot where it would lie down. A child would easily be enticed by the small stain of color and study it for a while, but interest was lost rather quickly. Unless, that is, wind came to stir the leaf back into the air and float it away.

It was the same with what he had left her. A dull stain on her neck wouldn't have been enough to keep things interesting, to let the seal retain any actual worth or value. This way, though, even if she did not use it, she was forced into struggle anyway. She had just one problem, however… he was far from a mere child who was content with watching, or playing at most. A gust of wind would hardly be enough to save her from his self-centered interest in studying what had come of his experiment. He needed to generate motion himself.

_That's right. Just letting you live may be of some use to me._

That was what he gained by letting her continue to exist. The benefit of being able to see and analyze effects that were not as immediate as her revelations about his true nature, from back then. She probably hadn't understood then, but he thought she did now. He could easily put her to the test and compare the new results with the old.

"Anko," he ignored her question, and called out her name in the calm, patronizing voice he used in the times he had been her sensei.

The break he took next was deliberate, and not for emphasis. He distributed the full extent of his attention, directed his trained gaze towards her back, where a reaction would be most evident, whether she knew it or not, whether she fought to contain it or not. He was certain that, had he been younger, he wouldn't have discovered the small twitch, the crudest beginning of a forcibly stopped start. But he had been doing this to the insecure for far too long to fail now, especially with someone he already knew so well that there was little wonder left at all.

But still some. Cruelly, he uttered the teasing demand that had been made before, to mock her; he had known from the beginning she couldn't, she wouldn't, and he had lost interest already before asking her. But he had toyed with her instability and fears. Now, with these words, with this symmetry, he made her a plaything again, bringing to life the ghost of a past he had erased from her mind, but that she had obviously remembered somehow. Interesting.

"Come with me," he said, watching her freeze, slowing her breath to near extinction.

Orochimaru had no view of her face from where he stood, with both his eyes fixed on her shoulder blades, or on the mere spots whose position he had to guess at, due to the trench coat obscuring the body and dulling all lines. But he didn't need that; he could well picture the slightly widened contours of those eyes, the slight changes in features he had seen enough of to not have trouble imagining in perfect detail. He couldn't see the shock and the disbelief, the denial in her expression, and yet they were there for him. There weren't many things he would trust so blindly, but this one he did.

"You won't answer me," he said with a chuckle, words tossed so pleasantly it must have been sickening for her to hear. It would have been for him, to be treated in such a condescending way. "This merely proves my point."

_That you are still weak. Nothing's changed here._

He left her, again. He used a jutsu of the many he had learned and gathered, not too difficult, and not too simple. It didn't really matter which method he chose, she wouldn't follow him anyway, because it would break her to do so. The mere illusion that she longed to do as he asked, and come with him indeed, would destroy her. He would love to witness such an intriguing process as the mental collapse of a former subject, but it wasn't likely to happen soon.

Still. He would have liked to hear her decision from her: _never_. Couldn't even express it on her own, could she? How pathetic. He held that thought even as he dismissed another, far less appealing: _it was actually her choice_.


End file.
